B. J. and I love to cruise. If you count all the river cruises, the lake cruises, the fjord cruises along with the ocean cruises, we have been on quite a number of cruises. It is wonderful and right now, there is another cruise in the planning stage for the spring.
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The annual Relay For Life was held May 6 at the Appling County High School track. The theme for the relay was “We’re Swinging into 50’s for a Cure.” The theme was a really big hit for the 28 teams we had. Some even entered the most decorated tent contest. They dressed their tents up for judging and had a great time with it.
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On May 30, Memorial Day, I got up early that Monday morning to go outside and water flowers as I always do every morning. My three dogs always accompanied me, but one of them was extra special and very close to me. It was my sweet, loving and smart Chihuahua, Elvis. He was my baby boy who went everywhere with me and while at home everyday, he was right on my heels, sitting up on his hind legs like a squirrel always wanting me to hold him. He loved hugs and kisses and always wanted my attention. He actually thought he was a child by the way I treated him, and he was. We had such a close bond and he would actually say the word mama when he wanted his treats.
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‘Twas the deal of the century and I had to get in on it. No way was I going to let $4500 pass me by in the Cash for Clunkers program. I told my old chicken truck, a 1988 F-150, what a good truck she had been and how much I would miss her and headed off to Tifton Toyota to buy a new pickup. Here my plan began to unravel because my wife asked where I was going and, not one to lie to my mate, not quite yet, that is; I confessed I was going vehicle shopping. We both went to Tifton Toyota.
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If this world operated on poetic justice or Karma or whatever you choose to call the principle, we’d have instant appropriate payback for our sins. What a way to train mankind to behave! For example, if a bully stole another kid’s candy, it would immediately give him a world class stomach ache, one the offended child could enjoy seeing. He might not have his candy, but he’d have the satisfaction of revenge. If a student were copying someone else’s paper, the teacher would pull her Taser from her desk drawer and give him some instant feed back. If you shoved some one out of line and broke in front of him, you’d break a leg and fall on the floor right there at the scene of the crime. If you drove off without paying for your gas, the pump itself would run screaming after you. Hmmm. I seem to be a bit carried away here, but you get the idea.
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On Wednesday, June 15, this reporter joined a conference call with State Representatives Roger Lane (R-Darien) and Tommy Smith (R-Nichols, represents Appling) to discuss a recent editorial written by this editor/publisher and published in this newspaper. The following is a portion of that editorial:
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Why is it when you call the Electronic Federal Tax Payment System’s 800 telephone number to enter weekly withholding tax information so the government can deduct withholdings from your bank account there is no option to hear the message in Spanish? Yet, when you call the Social Security Administration the automated attendant offers Spanish interpretation as one of the first options. Go figure.
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I am truly thankful for the rain that fell on Pine Grove this afternoon. We sat and watched as giant drops fell to a thirsty earth, but rain fell faster than the ground could soak it up. It’s been a while since we saw puddles in the yard. Before it completely stopped, Larry and I went out to check out our gardens. Everything was beautiful, appearing fresh and cool and new. When we surveyed the watermelons, they seemed to have grown during the downpour. We could hardly believe our eyes. There’s no longer a need to push aside the leaves to look for them. They’ve gotten big enough to push aside the leaves themselves.
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In 1969, Geech joined the Jaycees. He had never had a chance to mingle with city folk that much, but these were a great bunch of people and they got along like peas and rice. At each regular meeting, they had a meal and a business meeting, along with story telling, laughter and lightheartedness.
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Several years ago, B. J. and I were searching for an ancient colonial ancestral cemetery in the swampy South Carolina Low Country. We had discovered some information in a Beaufort, S. C., library that had led us deep into the remote areas in search of the old burial site.
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Larry and I enjoy working in our yard and gardens, but I don’t tolerate the gnats very well. A few up my nose, in my eyes, and in my ears will chase me right back inside on the double. Their abundance this summer is daunting, to say the least. The grandchildren are visiting, and living above the gnat line, they are even less tolerant than I of these pests.
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As I grow older I realize that my memory is just not what it used to be. I have a good recollection of certain events but there are usually no faces attached to that memory unless the event was memorable.
Sometimes someone from my past, for instance an old school mate, will come up to me and stare into my face saying, “remember me?” When they do this I instantly realize I am supposed to know them and I know this has happened to some of you if you are past sixty. When I cannot recognize them it is embarrassing and I will say something like “it’s coming to me. Give me a minute.” Most times it will come to me and if not they will usually say something or start talking about an event they think I will remember, but as I have already stated, if the event was not memorable I generally cannot recall it and I have to apologize and go from there. I hate it when that happens.
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Has the thought ever crossed your mind that South Georgia is an entirely overlooked part of Georgia? It seems that our state government (especially the Atlanta crowd) has the tendency of viewing us as little peons past the gnat line and of little or insignificant value. Insignificant, that is, unless they need our votes come election time.
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